


Mine Eyes Deceive Me

by teardrops_on_ghostly_wings



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Comfort Reading, Cuddling & Snuggling, Dorks in Love, Drinking, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, First Kiss, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Getting Together, Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, Light Angst, Love Confessions, M/M, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Morning Cuddles, Nicknames, Reading, References to Shakespeare, Sleepiness, Sleepy Cuddles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-16
Updated: 2019-12-16
Packaged: 2021-02-26 00:21:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,843
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21824353
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/teardrops_on_ghostly_wings/pseuds/teardrops_on_ghostly_wings
Summary: Crowley wouldn't call himself dumb, despite what Aziraphale may have thought at various points throughout history. Admittedly he's never gotten through one of the ridiculously long novels Aziraphale breezes through daily like it's a gossip magazine, but he's still far from any kind of stupidity.It's this pride in his own intelligence that brings Crowley to a screeching halt when confronted with a problem in the shape of Hamlet.Also known as Crowley struggles to read because of his eyes but is determined to read Azriaphale's favourite book to impress him. Mild distress and fluffy cuddling ensues
Relationships: Aziraphale & Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 3
Kudos: 183





	Mine Eyes Deceive Me

**Author's Note:**

> Yes I'm aware the title isn't actually from Hamlet but it seems fitting so we're just going to overlook it

Crowley wouldn't call himself dumb, despite what Aziraphale may have thought at various points throughout history. Admittedly he's never gotten through one of the ridiculously long novels Aziraphale breezes through daily like it's a gossip magazine, but he's still far from any kind of stupidity. If asked he could easily recite every British monarch from the last half dozen centuries or exact dates and facts for almost any historical event. Crowley may not devour Shakespeare manuscripts like they're his life force but he likes to think himself almost, if not just, as smart as Aziraphale thank you very much.

It's this pride in his own intelligence that brings Crowley to a screeching halt when confronted with a problem in the shape of _Hamlet_.

The night started so nicely, drinking wine on the couch in the angels backroom and talking about whatever came to mind. Crowley was on a tangent about how cruel God must have been feeling when She made blobfish while Aziraphale not so casually hinted at the desire to open a third bottle. Eventually the angel got the idea that Crowley was too sloshed to understand the finer points of subtlety and decided to get the bottle anyway. In their many millennia of getting wasted together the demon had never once said no to more alcohol so tonight wouldn't be any different.

As Aziraphale hauled himself out of his armchair, Crowley attempted to move his legs out of the way from where they lounged over the arm of the couch but failed miserably. All he managed to do was smack one of his gangly legs into the nearby reading lamp, sending it, and the precarious stack of books next to it, tumbling to the floor.

That was enough to break Aziraphale out of his drunken fog enough to rush over and pick up the books. Attempting to move last time was a disaster so Crowley settles for groaning before snapping his fingers to restore the lamp to how it was. That earns him a fond smile from the angel as he stacks the books back up "Oh Crowley dear, you really should be more careful"

"Come off it angel, you know it's impossible to move more than an inch in this dumb shop without hitting something"

"I've never found it to be a problem, you're just drunk and uncoordinated"

"Am not, this kind of thing always happens when some silly bugger thinks stacking things 10 books high is a good idea"

It's far from the first time they've had this argument but for once Azriaphale is distracted before they can do much more. He takes a book from the top of the pile and gives it a find look before waving it towards the demon "See look at this. You could have ruined my book of _Hamlet_ , I've had this for almost a century and would hate to ruin it"

Ignoring Crowley's muttering of "That's what miracles are for angel" he sits back down in his chair to lazily flip through the book. "Oh I have missed this, it's been years so maybe I should read it again"

That sounds very much like a polite way of telling Crowley to bugger off but the demon isn't having it. They've spent every night since the almost-apocalypse together and that won't be changing yet. Instead Crowley stays firmly on the couch, miracling up another bottle of wine before reaching over to snatch the book from Aziraphale.

The angel glares even while the corners of his lips twitch up as he watches his best friend play with the book. "What's the big deal about this book anyway angel? We've seen the play dozens of times and Shakespeare's funny ones were better anyway"

"I wouldn't expect you to understand but it really is quite a delightful story my dear"

"I would hope I bloody understand it considering the effort I went through to get people interested in it"

"And I do so appreciate that, it was a very nice thing you did for me"

Despite the whine of complaint that gets, Aziraphale is undeterred and gives Crowley a curious look "You have read it haven't you dearest? As you said you did work very hard on it and I would hope you would like if after all that"

The silence from the couch tells Aziraphale everything he needs to know. It's never been a secret Crowley isn't a big reader, preferring to listen to Aziraphale blather about the book or watching a tv adaptation instead of enjoying it's paper form. Still, the angel hoped his friend would make an exception for _Hamlet_ , especially considering the part it plays in their history together.

With a huff Aziraphale gets up from his chair again to move over to the couch. It's currently covered in various demon limbs so with another huff he lifts Crowley's legs and moves under them before allowing them to rest over his lap. That earns many strangled sounds from the demon but Aziraphale has learnt to ignore them over the centuries.

He fixes Crowley with a pointed look and pokes the book "You haven't read it? After all the times you've listened to me rave about it, you haven't read it?"

All that gets in response is another strangled sound so the angel gently cups Crowley's hand around the book "Take it home with you and read it my dear boy, I really must insist"

Crowley can't find the words to argue when his legs are in the angels lap and his hand is being held so he wordlessly nods. That seems to satisfy him so Aziraphale lets go of Crowley's hand but doesn't seem inclined to move anywhere further than to grab the wine bottle.

Once they've both got full glasses again they settle into arguing about which of Shakespeare's plays truly are masterpieces. It's common ground so it's easy for Crowley to keep up the conversation even when half his brain is focused on his lap.

It's far from the first time they've touched each other but intimacy like this has always been rare. Brushing hands while reaching for a drink is very different from being half in the angels lap. Crowley never noticed how warm Aziraphale is but the snake in him is begging to go closer to soak in his heat.

After another hour, which is both the best and most painful of Crowley's existence, he makes his excuses, sobers up, then retires home. That night no matter how many blankets he piles on, nothing can come close to the warmth and happiness he felt with Aziraphale.

The next morning, after a restless night, Crowley gets up and sees the _Hamlet_ book on the nightstand. Now that he's sober he can't believe he agreed to read the stupid thing. He has no problem with _Hamlet_ per say, more with books in general. His snake eyes have always made it difficult to see small words properly, much less read a proper book and understand it without extreme effort.

Part of Crowley wants to sneak the book back into the bookshop when Aziraphale isn't looking and pretend it didn't happen but he can't. He promised his angel he'd read the bloody book so damn if he isn't going to follow through. Aziraphale has always made it clear he likes well read, intelligent people which Crowley's never been. Nothing could convince him to become a bookworm but if reading one book will make him look better in Aziraphale's eyes then that's what he'll do.

A week later Crowley is sorely regretting his stubbornness around reading the book. He's tried multiple times a day to read it but still can't get more than 10 pages in. Every time he tries to read his eyes start blurring and the words dance around the page until he can't bare to look at it anymore.

After a phone call from Aziraphale one evening, proposing dinner the next night, Crowley grits his teeth and settles down with the book again. It takes hours and a lot of suffering but he manages to get almost halfway through. By that time Crowley's head has started to throb so he gives up and falls asleep, promising to read more the next day.

When Crowley wakes up though his heads throbbing and opening his eyes burns. Instead of moving he buries his head in his pillow and attempts to miracle the headache away with no success. He spends the rest of the day lying in bed, groaning in pain until there's a knock on his door.

The only person who'd be here is Aziraphale so Crowley forces himself out of bed to answer the door. He only manages to stagger half of the way there before he hears the lock click open and the angel walks in. Aziraphale takes one look at the shaky, sweaty demon before closing the door behind him and rushing over.

Despite Crowley's protests Aziraphale insists on half carrying him back to bed before placing a hand on his forehead. It's humiliating for the angel to see him like this but Crowley doesn't know how to make him leave. Instead he lies silently on his bed and lets the angel fuss over him.

"Oh Crowley darling, what's wrong? Did you not sober up properly?"

"M fine, I promise"

"Don't be absurd dear, I might be old but I'm not blind. Stay here and rest while I go cancel dinner and figure out what to do"

Once Aziraphale makes up his mind it's almost impossible to change it so there's nothing Crowley can do. With another quiet noise of sympathy Aziraphale leaves the room, his heart feeling ten times heavier in his chest than it did that morning.

The phone call cancelling their dinner reservation is easy then Aziraphale is left to fret. In their 6000 year friendship the only time the demons been at all unwell is when they got too drunk to sober up and were hungover the next morning. Celestial beings aren't supposed to ever get sick or feel bad so this is unheard of.

After miracling some cocoa and more blankets Aziraphale goes back to see his best friend. Crowley silently lets himself get wrapped in the blankets then sips the cocoa under the angels watchful eye. He's never been a huge fan of hot drinks, unlike Aziraphale and his tea addiction, but drinks every drop of it to please his angel.

Despite constant reassurances Aziraphale spends the whole time fretting and hovering, feeling terrible about the whole thing. Eventually watching him pace is making Crowley's headache worse so he humbles himself and reaches for the angels wrist "Calm down angel it's just a migraine, humans get them all the time"

That gets a scoff out of Aziraphale and he murmurs "We're not human Crowley, it's not natural, why won't you tell me what happened?"

Telling the most well read person on the planet that all this is because he couldn't read a book is the last thing Crowley wants. All he wanted was to subtly slip into conversation that he read the book so they could talk about it and it would make the angel happy. Part of him was hoping that casually mentioning reading a book might have made it seem like he was well read too and it was no big deal, though obviously it's a huge deal.

Gently Crowley tugs at Aziraphale's wrist until he perches on the edge of the bed. Crowley closes his eyes while he tries to work up the courage to admit his uselessness but jumps at the feel of a hand in his hair. With a soft hand the angel start running his hands through his best friends hair and murmurs again "Talk to me dearest, you know after all this time you can tell me anything"

He's so bloody nice. Even after their date was ruined and he's stuck here with a stupid demon the angel is still so disgustingly nice about it. Any sane person would take one look at Crowley and leave to get dinner with someone else but not Aziraphale.

With a humiliated whimper Crowley presses against Aziraphale's hand, eager for as much touch as he can get while he mutters "It was the bleeding book angel, I tried to read your stupid _Hamlet_ book to impress you but it gave me a migraine, I'm sorry"

Being a demon means he's unforgivable but Crowley can't help apologising anyway. For so long all he's wanted is to make his beautiful angel happy in any way possible but he's done nothing right. If he wasn't a disgusting snake maybe he'd be able to read and be more of what the angel wanted, maybe then he would be worthy of Aziraphale's love and affection.

Even after Crowley's honesty the hand in his hair never stops stroking while the embarrassed demon tries to hide his face. A gentle hand under his chin forces Crowley's eyes up to lock with the angels baby blues, melting a little at the soft look in them.

"You silly old serpent" Aziraphale murmurs softly "If you didn't like the book you didn't have to read it. I'm not Hell so you never have to hurt yourself for me, I only want the best for you my dear boy"

He's still acting like the angel he literally is but Crowley has to frantically shake his head "No no no no it wasn't the bloody book, it's all bloody books"

"I know you don't like to read my dear, if you didn't want it you shouldn't have bothered"

"I want to, all I want is to read the stupid book and talk to you about it over dessert at some prissy restaurant but I can't, I can't read angel"

Now that his secrets out Crowley gives up on all dignity and shifts to bury his face in Aziraphale's lap. There's no sound from the angel so he presses his cheek to his soft thighs, breathing in the scent of dusty old books that's so wholly Aziraphale.

They stay completely still for a long time while Crowley hates himself more with every passing second until the stroking of his hair returns. All Crowley can manage is a choked "Ngk angel" before he breaks down in tears in his best friends lap.

Today has already been one of the most humiliating experiences of Crowley's life, alongside begging the angel to run away to alpha centuri with him, but nothing prepared him for this. They've been together so long but even after everything they've been through Aziraphale's never seen him like this. He's seen Crowley angry and spiteful, cursing the world and God, and he's seen him exhausted and ready to take a century long nap but Aziraphale has never seen such a low point. All the cool guy points Crowley's been building up for centuries are gone in this single moment of weakness.

Every inch of Crowley screams to miracle himself somewhere else, anywhere else, to hide his shame from the only person he's ever loved but he can't bare to move. It's likely this is the only chance he'll ever get to be comforted and feel loved by Aziraphale so how could he give this up? It might ruin everything he's worked so hard to build but he'll always have this memory to cling to. He might be dirty and disgusting and evil, he might be the scum of the earth, but in this moment, Crowley feels like an angel again.

Aziraphale silently lets the demon cry until his sobs get less violent then gently pulls Crowley properly into a hug. Loosing the feel of the angels thighs under his cheek is heartbreaking but being fully wrapped in his arms more than makes up for it.

Being a demon means Crowley will always be selfish but he tries so hard to control himself. He lets himself indulge in 10 whole glorious seconds of Aziraphale's embrace before pulling back. Aziraphale watches silently as Crowley wipes the tears off his face then reaches back to cup his friends hands. That gets another started "Gnk" out of Crowley and effectively renders him speechless.

With a fond smile Aziraphale leans in to place a lingering kiss on the demons forehead then cups his cheek "I'm sorry my darling boy, I had no idea this would upset you so much"

"I'm sorry angel, I wanted to do this for you but I couldn't, I'm sorry. For Go- Sat- someones sake, just please give me more time and I can do it, I promise I'll finish the blasted book for you"

"Excuse my language Crowley but shut up right this minute"

Obediently the demon does just that and lets Aziraphale take control. Crowley lets himself be manhandled further onto the bed so Aziraphale can get on too then eagerly curls into the angels side when told he can. In one day they've gone from only touching on accident to cuddling for long periods of time in very intimate ways. It's blowing Crowley's mind but he doesn't dare ask about it from fear of loosing everything he never knew he needed.

With the same care he gives to everything in his life Aziraphale wraps a solid arm around Crowley to keep him close then picks up _Hamlet_. Another spike of shame goes through Crowley at how he failed but the angel doesn't give him time to work himself up into a state again. Instead he instinctively opens the book to where Crowley got up to last night and starts to read.

Most of the evening is spent in Crowley's bed, cuddling close to each other while the angel reads. Over time Crowley's headache faces until he can't even remember it was there in the first place. This is by far the happiest moment of his long life and still had to pinch himself occasionally to check it's not a dream.

Aziraphale didn't say a singe mean thing about Crowley not being able to read. Even the friendly teasing they'd gotten so good at over the years was missing. Instead the angel gave Crowley the physical reassurance he didn't know he was yearning for and is reading his favourite book out loud.

Listening to Aziraphale talk and being pressed against his warmth is so comforting that Crowley can't stop himself from drifting to asleep.

When the demon wakes up he feels a moment of complete bliss before remembering last night. It had been both the best and worst day of his life but he couldn't even stay awake long enough to fully enjoy it.

As he comes back into his senses he sees the arm around his waist and feels the warm body against his back. It's the first time in his existence he's ever woken up with another person and it's terrifying. The terror only lasts a second though because Aziraphale's aura is too comforting to stay upset for long.

Even when the angel isn't trying, he puts off such strong feelings of safety and love that people can't held gravitating to him. He was made to be a guardian and protect humanity so that's what he's always done, even if the one in his arms right now is far from human.

When Aziraphale notices Crowley's awake he snuggles closer to the demon and places a feather light kiss on the slope of his neck "Morning my love, sleep well?"

"Best sleep of my bloody life angel"

"I guess we should do this every night then dearest, we both know how you get when you don't get a good nap"

Aziraphale laughs softly at the way Crowley presses against him with a whine at that. He's been trying to bring up the fact they should move in together for weeks so this was an easy way to get it done. Hopefully Crowley will finally take a hint and spend every night at the bookshop until they can properly get a place together. Aziraphale's never been a fan of sleeping but resting in bed with his love in his arms is quite enjoyable.

They lounge in bed for a few long minutes before Crowley drags himself out of bed. The angel might not sleep but he very much enjoys indulging in breakfast every morning. If this is going to be a thing now Crowley's got to get used to waking up every morning and getting his angel something delectable.

Lazily he slouches into the kitchen, rubbing his face to try to get the remnants of last nights breakdown off. Over the years Crowley's taught himself to cook because he knew Aziraphale would appreciate it. He likes to occasionally tempt himself to something sweet but the angel has the biggest sweet tooth in existence.

After a few pointed glares at his kitchen to make sure everything behaves itself he sets about making crepes. In much less time than would be possible without miracles, he has plate of steaming hot crepes, berries and cream.

The look on Aziraphale's face when Crowley walks back into the bedroom with breakfast is worth everything in the world. His perfect face lights up and even for a demon the wave of love that hits him is staggering.

Clumsily Crowley slides the tray onto Aziraphale's lap before curling back into him. Aziraphale takes his time with the crepes as always, savouring every bite and making appreciative noises that wouldn't be out of place in a porno. Crowley watches him every second, never being happier that he doesn't need to blink than in this moment.

Finally once the plate has been cleaned Aziraphale miracles it back to the kitchen and focuses fully on Crowley again. His soft eyes lock with Crowley's as he runs a careful hand through the demons hair "That was absolutely phenomenal, thank you my love, you're too good to me"

"Nothing's ever too good for you angel but did... Did you call me your love?"

The look he gets in return makes the demon feel like a misbehaving school boy as Aziraphale gives a little tug on the copper strands of his hair "Now really dearest, I think we're a little too old to be acting like insecure, hormonal teenagers. We've been dancing around each other for millennia so now that we're free agents it's really time to get our act together"

"So... So..." Crowley stutters "Boyfriends then?"

"As I said, we're not teenagers Crowley, after this much time I'd like to call you my husband"

The answering squeal from Crowley is thankfully muffled by Aziraphale's lips pressing against his. It's nothing more than a short peck but leaves Crowley feeling more disoriented than a million bottles of alcohol ever could. 

Feeling very satisfied at what a mess he's turned his new husband into, Aziraphale reaches for the nightstand again "Why don't we see if we can finish _Hamlet_ this morning my darling. I certainly don't plan to leave this bed any time soon so we might as well do something useful while we're here"


End file.
